Winter Frolics
by Immortal x Snow
Summary: Playing in the snow was such fun, They knew it was so - but Battler never realized, How fast he'd have to run... Collection of ten Beatrice x Battler drabbles celebrating winter.
1. Snowball Fight

**Hi, guys! I thought I'd try my hand at writing something for Umineko to celebrate the first day of winter (aka my favorite day of the year). Basically, this will be a collection of ten drabbles, written between today and Christmas. I plan to have them all Beatrice x Battler-centric; however, there might be a hint or two of Lambda x Bern in here, or I can always write a requested pairing\character.**

* * *

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Aw, now why would I do something like that, Battler~?"

Her hands dipping deeper into the crystals covering her feet, scooping up a large ball and molding it to just the perfect shape in her hands, she grins impishly, showing her teeth. They are as white as the snow dripping down Battler's face from the snowball thrown by Beatrice just seconds ago. His face takes on a pouting look as she lunges forward, taunting him while plotting a precise trajectory.

"C'mon, c'mon, Battler~! Can't you do better than that?"

"Better than wha--" He tries to respond, but Beatrice's snowball smacks him in the face before he can finish his statement.

Angrily spitting snow out of his mouth, Battler glares at Beatrice, who is laughing at him from the other side of the open field they are playing in. The witch doubles over with laughter, cackling louder and louder.

"Ahaha!" She continues to laugh. "Battler, I can't believe you! Just try and win this fight! Ha!"

The snow begins to fall heavier and heavier as the attacks grow more and more violent - er, persistent. By this time, snow is dripping down Battler's jacket and through his shirt. Of course, the first time the crystalline substance trickled down Battler's clothes and froze his skin, Beatrice was amused so much that she swore her face ached from laughing.

"Beatrice, infinity; Battler, zero!"

"Don't count on it!"

Beatrice looks up from the behemoth igloo-style fortress she has been crafting to find Battler charging toward her, snowball_s _in hand.

"What are you--"

He tackles her to the ground before she can finish her sentence.

"B-Battler!"

She peers up at him to find his face just a bit too far from - no, too close to her own! Certainly not too far... Not too far...

Fighting back the redness pulsing through and coloring her skin, Beatrice wants to squirm away from Battler and the snowballs he has ready to throw in her face, but she finds herself unable to move. It's as though she actually enjoys being hunted down, like she actually desired him to catch her and pin her down like this. Although Battler might get some points on the scoreboard for this, while wounding her ego simultaneously, Beatrice can't help but enjoy the warmth radiating from his body and the diamond dust of his breath drifting across her face.

Smiling softly, concocting a scheme in her mind, she looks up at the triumphantly laughing azure plains in Battler's eyes. Beatrice stifles a cackle as she sees the same red dancing across her face pirouette across Battler's.

"Changing the goal of the game, _my_ snowball fight, now are we?" Beatrice licks her lips as her hands slip through Battler's sleeves, gripping his wrists.

Startled, Battler jerks back away from his position on top of Beatrice.

"Your hands are cold, dammit! Wear gloves!"

But this opportunity is all Beatrice needs. She lets go of Battler's wrists temporarily, rising up onto her knees and tackling the surprised man, making sure she is on top of him this time. Her hands grope around in the now deeper snow, finding Battler's hands again and grabbing on as hard as she can.

"Ha! Now who's going to win _again_?" Beatrice smirks as she bends over him.

Battler blushes harder at this, and lets out an exclamation of bewilderment as she licks his lips; consequently, he loses his hold on the snowballs in his hands, and Beatrice swipes them up and shoves them into his face.

"Take _that_, Ushiromiya Battler!" Beatrice laughs as she moves away from Battler and laughs at him as he tries to wipe all the snow off his face.

"I'll get you yet for that!" Battler growls, springing up from the ground and pursuing Beatrice.

Although Beatrice pretends to taunt him back with retorts of her own, she can't help but smile and shake her head inwardly at his foolishness - and all that draws her to him.


	2. Mission: Sleds and Ice?

**Is it just me, or is this one rather crazy? Well, I wrote about half of it in school between finals today, so... That might explain it. Thanks to everyone who read\alerted\reviewed\favorite-d, and enjoy!**

* * *

"Beato, I think you've fallen and landed on your head a little bit too hard this time. In other words, you've gotta be kidding me."

"No, of course I'm not!" Beatrice coos as she twirls the chain, catching it at the end of each revolution it makes in front of Battler's face. "Why would I joke about something as serious as this?"

"You call this kind of transportation _serious_? You really must have something wrong with your sense of fun... But I already knew that..."

Beatrice laughs as she continues to twirl the chain, watching it edge closer and closer to Battler's nose. His blue eyes grow wider at the sight of the bright orange plastic disk-like object beneath the witch's feet. Trying to edge away, he stutters, "B-But isn't there s-something else you could do to -"

"No, to both parts of your query," replied Beatrice nonchalantly, sliding the sled around beneath her feet. "First of all, there is no I or you - like it or not, Battler, we're spending the remainder of the day together, doing what I want. Secondly, no. This is what I want to do, so you're doing it with me!"

"But... It's shaky..."

Beatrice sighs, crossing her arms.

"But that's the fun of it! Don't you - awaaaaa!"

Beatrice makes the ostensibly trifling error of shifting the sled beneath her feet too many times and too far, and the sled, having slipped on a patch of ice, slides down the hill, causing Beatrice to lose her balance and fall down backwards after it.

"Beato!" Battler jerks up from his sitting position and races to the edge, watching the sled race down the snow-blanketed hill, the witch slipping and sliding down with it.

He doesn't hesitate - adrenaline and something else make him step over the edge of the summit and start to chase after Beatrice and the runaway sled. But he too slides on the icy patches and crashes haphazardly down the hill, crying out as his feet slip out from under him, until he reaches the foot of the hill.

A few fleeting seconds pass before Battler feels the soft hand on his arm. Looking to his left, he finds the Golden Witch and her sled beside him, her hand on his arm.

Suddenly concerned, Battler asks more anxiously than he would like to admit, "Beato? Are you all right?"

Beatrice peers up at him, eyes wide and innocent, before a playful sneer steals across her face, and she giggles.

"See?" She asks as she pulls Battler and herself up to a standing position. "Wasn't that fun?"

"Fun?!" Battler exclaims incredulously. "That was dangerous! You could have crashed into a tree! You could have been hurt! You could have -"

"So, you're only worried about me, not yourself?" Inquires Beatrice pointedly.

Battler's face flushes and his voices appears to go up an octave due to his embarrassment.

"That's - That's not true! And... Ah ha! I get it now! Repeat it in red: 'I pretended to fall only to get Battler to come after me!'"

Beatrice's face flashed the color of the words that flowed from her mouth.

"And what if I did?" She asks somewhat bashfully after repeating Battler's statement.

"Then you - You!"

"Wasn't it fun? C'mon Battler, let's go again!" She grins, having regained her poise.

And the witch drags her prey up the hill, continuing her fun until darkness descends.

And even though Battler knows that it might all be a prank, he can't help but blush as he reminisces about his favorite sled rides and the feel of Beatrice's body against his, as the two careen down the hill.


	3. Of Sweets and Mischief

**Somehow, I got angst-y white writing this chapter. *shrugs***

**I think I've been forgetting to mention that these are all connected, too.  
**

* * *

"Okay, so maybe I was amused in regard to your reactions to my ideas, but you've now proven that you can't come up with anything better!"

This time, it is Beatrice's turn to complain about a proposition for a new winter game, this one decided upon by Battler. Whether or not she is complaining simply because she did not come up with that idea or because she simply doesn't like it, Battler doesn't know, but either way, he really just doesn't care that much.

"Beato, are you seriously trying to tell me that you've never had hot chocolate before?" He forces back a laugh. "For someone who loves sweets too much, you really are hopeless if you don't know about hot chocolate."

Beatrice glowers at him.

"Well, then, what is this 'hot chocolate' that you speak of? Is it just chocolate heated up? Because of course I've had that before!" The witch protests in a flustered tone as she recalls the chocolate she made for Battler on Valentine's day, seemingly so long ago...

Her recollections are interrupted by Battler's laughter.

"Of course it isn't!"

Judging by his tone, Beatrice can't decide whether she should be offended, embarrassed, happy, or even a medley of the three.

"Here, I'll show you," offers Battler as he selects a kettle and fills it with water. "It's like making tea, with boiling the water and all, see?"

He has to smile as he watches Beatrice follow his every move observantly, looking like a little cat expecting to receive a treat; however, after realizing that she is staring more at him than what he is doing, he begins to feel slightly discomfited.

"Say, Beato," he proposes after becoming so embarrassed and awkward that he believes he can exceed his limits no longer, "How about you go out by the fireplace and wait for me to finish making this? It'll only be a minute or two longer."

Supposedly apathetic and impartial to Battler's request, Beatrice simply shrugs and leaves the room, curling up by the fireplace, still cold from their adventures in the snow that afternoon. Back in the kitchen, Battler sighs and continues to make the warm drinks for the two of them.

_Seriously, _he thinks with amusement, _How could she have never drunk or even heard of hot chocolate? Especially when she's had all those other sweets... What a silly girl._

Once the liquid is poured into decorative mugs, Battler places a spoonful of cream on top of each one, before adding plenty of marshmallows. Satisfied with his creations, he walks out to the fireplace to find Beatrice happily snuggled down in the warmth, looking at him almost expectantly. Handing her the mug, Battler sits down next to her and watches as Beatrice raises the mug to her lips and takes a small sip. She smiles, and takes another, larger sip - more like a gulp in Battler's eyes.

_Must like it, _Battler decides as he too begins to drink his own, feeling the warmth glide down his throat and throughout his body.

A long silence follows as the pair continue to sip - or, in Beatrice's case, gulp - their hot chocolate. After a moment or two, Beatrice looks up at Battler's face, her eyes colored with strange colors, auras, and emotions, before she laughs.

"Battler, you've got cream all over your face," she points out.

"Oh, I -" Battler's words are cut off as Beatrice leans into his face, her lips dangerously close.

"You're not gonna..." Battler begins to speak again, but he allows his words to die away with the flickering flames as Beatrice uses her lips to kiss away the cream around Battler's lips, and he gives in to the warmth he feels against his face.

That is, until he feels scalding warmth elsewhere.

"Beato! What the hell?!"

She pulls her lips away and makes a triumphant face.

"That's what happens when you get distracted~," she teases, drinking the remainder of her hot chocolate that she hasn't poured down Battler's shirt.

"I can't believe you!"

"Oh, come on, you know you enjoyed it," Beatrice laughs, waving her hand indifferently.

Beatrice's statement is one that is entirely composed of veracity, even without the red truth - of course they both enjoyed it, perhaps even to an extent that neither would ever admit.


	4. Snow Angel

**You all have the right to laugh at me, because I honestly almost fell asleep as I wrote this - it was so peaceful n' stuff. XD**

* * *

"Really, Beato. I can't believe you want to go back out into the snow again. Haven't you had enough fun already?"

"No, of course not!"

Having just changed his hot-chocolate-soaked clothes, Battler isn't in the best of moods. Although changing his clothes is possible, Battler can't just switch his hair to something that isn't saturated with sugary liquid.

Beatrice reaches out and clutches Battler's hand, dragging him along behind her outside into the snow. Even though Battler balks and is reluctant to be the victim of Beatrice's schemes once more, he is lured along by the feel of her hand in his, leading him onward with a promise that, no matter how vicious her pranks are or how wet or frigid he gets, they will be together through it all. With her hand still in his.

And that's why he falls over with Beatrice when she suddenly falls down the snow.

"Beato, what..."

Beatrice lies perfectly still in the snow, eyes closed, legs straight and together, arms at her sides. Her chest rises and falls as she breathes in the cool air, tasting its sharp but refreshing essence on her tongue, feeling the flakes kiss and then melt on her warm face as they fall slowly, softly... So tranquilly...

"You aren't falling asleep on me, are you?" Battler asks, his tone hushed, as though he actually believes that Beatrice has fallen into slumber.

"No." Her reply sounds as though her lips were possessed by her reveries.

_But it's okay if you actually have, you know, _Battler thinks lies in the snow beside her, watching her seem to merge existences with the snow, becoming crystalline gems falling from the welkin.

After a few minutes, Beatrice starts moving again, spreading her legs and arms out, pulling Battler's arm along with hers as she brings her limbs back to her body.

"What are you doing now?" Battler wonders aloud as she repeats the rhythmic movements multiple times, his limbs unconsciously following harmoniously.

"Isn't it obvious?" Beatrice laughs as she rises from the snow, which is now caked in her hair. "Look."

She points to the configurations in the snow, as perfectly shaped as if they had been made from cookie cutters. Two picturesque angels are outlined in the white diamond dust, sparkling with innocence and bliss.

Battler gazes at the smiling witch beside him.

_No, she's not a witch right now, _he decides. _Out here, right now, she is what we made together, hand in hand: an angel of snow. _


	5. DON'T Catch Me when I Fall

**Is it just me, or are these getting more and more ridiculous?**

* * *

_You've gotta be kidding yourself_, Battler thinks. _Looking at her like she's an angel. She's a witch, but... At the same time, I can't look at her like she's anything or anyone else..._

And amongst the white clouds and across the fields he and Beatrice had their snowball fight in the other day, Battler hears the words he can't say resound and reverberate. He knows that he has wanted to say them for a long time; however, it has never been so possible or even tangible to actually do so until now. Because, for once, he actually has the courage to say them.

"Hey, Beato -" He is cut off by Beatrice's fleeting figure rushing by him.

"Hey, Battler!" She calls out cheerfully and mockingly. "Catch me if you can! Ahaha!"

Puzzled for a second, Battler suddenly turns to find Beatrice racing away from him, almost as far away as he can see now, her body dancing over the edge of the horizon.

"So, you wanna race?" He yells after her, starting to run. "Fine, then! I'll win!"

Of course, beneath the countenance of determination and his cocky desire to win, Battler feels somewhat upset that he has lost his chance to finally tell her, but he shakes it off quickly, knowing that perhaps, another opportunity will present itself eventually - hopefully sooner rather than later.

Turning and making a taunting gesture at Battler that he cannot entirely see, Beatrice spurs on and antagonizes Battler, making him forget his woes and just run after her, never stopping. Just running. Even when he becomes fatigued and can see Beatrice getting further and further away, even when he can almost feel the temperature drop and the wind blow harder, he never stops.

_Seriously, how can she run that quickly in a long dress like that? _He sighs, somewhat vexed by his certain loss.

On other side of the field, Beatrice is becoming just as weary as Battler, but she is unwilling to lose to _him_, of all people.

_I won't lose to you. _She grins, looking back over her shoulder at the distance between herself and Battler. _This is so much fun... Just as fun as pouring hot chocolate - that was so good - down his shirt. Just as fun as making him chase me down the hill, looking like such an adorable idiot... Just as fun as kissing him in the snow, and watching him misunderstand. Of course I didn't do that _just _to distract him..._

A loss of control of her feet and a subsequent, sudden jerk within her chest are interlopers of her thoughts, and she finds herself falling face first into the snow before she can realize what has happened.

Several sluggish seconds later, Battler rushes up to the place where he saw Beatrice fall.

"Beato? Are you okay? You fell again!"

Beatrice groans as Battler grabs her arm and pulls her out of the snow.

"Look at all this ice, silly!" Battler points to a long stretch of land where there is no snow, only black ice encasing the once-green grass.

Then he hears her moan again, and suddenly becomes concerned.

"Hey, are you all right?" Unlike the time when Beatrice fell down the hill, he does not even think about disguising the anxiety in his voice.

"I'm fine!" Beatrice denies the pain she feels coming from her forehead, where she hit it against the ice.

"You can't be all right - you're bleeding!" Even more worried, Battler sits down next to Beatrice and presses his handkerchief to the wound on her forehead.

"What are..." Beatrice feels her face turn red. Much as her head hurts, she can't help but enjoy being taken care of.

"Come on, you."

Gasping, Beatrice is shocked as she feels Battler's arms wrap around her and lift her gently out of the snow.

"Hey!" She cries out in embarrassment. "Put me down!"

_What is he... _She mentally shouts.

"Now why would I do that and leave you to fall on the ice and hurt yourself again?" Battler asks as he holds Beatrice closer to his chest, protectively keeping her close. "I'm not like that, you know."

Beatrice pretends to pout at first, but she reluctantly wraps her arms around his neck.

"Only so you don't drop me," she mumbles almost shyly.

"Again, why would I do something like that?"

"...Just because you're you."

_But... This really isn't that bad, I guess... _Beatrice decides as she relaxes, leans her head against Battler's chest, and closes her eyes, weary from another day of playing in the snow.


	6. Chronicles on the Canvas

**I really hope this turned out all right - I spent three hours trying to write it. Note to self: never write humor and fluff when in a bad mood.**

**Thanks to XxXChiharu-Chan-1000-SpringsXx for giving me this idea.  
**

* * *

_"This is ridiculous."_

_"Well, at least you aren't saying 'I can't believe this' or 'you've gotta be kidding me', right?"_

_Beatrice growls._

_"And," Battler continues, "I can always drop you. Don't forget that I have the advantage here. You really wouldn't like it if I dropped you, would you?"_

_Smirking, she replies, "You wouldn't dare - ow!"_

* * *

And so Beatrice remembers the events of yesterday as she fingers the bandage on her forehead.

_I can't believe the idiot actually dropped me like that, _she sighs inwardly. _But then... he came back and said he was sorry. And he... Picked me up again and said he wouldn't do it again, if I were injured..._

"What are you doing, Beato?" Battler asks as he walks up behind her and puts his hand on her shoulder. "Normally you'd be dragging me outside to have more games - look, it's snowing again. Does your head hurt too much to go outside?"

"Of course not! I already told you that it doesn't hurt at all!"

Battler shrugs, knowing that she is lying.

"Repeat it in red: my head doesn't hurt at all," he challenges.

Frowning, Beatrice whirls and glares at him, unable to fulfill his request.

"Just give it a rest, why don't you?"

"But see, you can't say it. Why don't we stay inside today? It's supposed to continue snowing tomorrow, so there will be plenty of things left for us to do."

"Fine," she mumbles reluctantly, in no mood to pour things on Battler or play any of his crazy games.

And so a day of indoor madness commences.

* * *

"Okay, this half is yours, and this half is mine," Battler says as he divides the surface of the window into two parts with his finger.

"But your half is bigger," Beatrice protests.

"It is not!"

"Wanna bet? Just look. See? It's two square millimeters bigger than mine!"

"Fine then, take the bigger half if it makes you happy!"

Grinning, Beatrice places her finger on the bigger half of the window and writes her name with her finger near the top. After admiring her artwork and pondering for a moment, Beatrice draws a butterfly beneath her name, carefully drawing the designs on its wings with her fingernail, so as to make them thin and delicate.

Battler watches her, smiling, before he marks his half with his name and begins to draw various designs beneath it. An angel flutters onto the window as his fingers move about skillfully, and a small sled rushes onto the glass. Two tall mugs of hot chocolate fog up the glass with their steam.

_It's just like everything we've done together these past few days, _Battler realizes as he draws piles of snowballs and Beatrice's snow fortress. _I've never liked winter, but now..._

Without thinking, he finds his fingers forming the shape of a heart on the cold canvas; it's only when he feels fingers touching his that he realizes what he is doing.

His half of the heart is connected to another half that Beatrice is drawing, and their hands are now touching.

"Wh-What?" He stutters, embarrassed.

"Uh..." Beatrice finds herself speechless.

Awkward silence follows.

_I wonder if... _Battler thinks.

_Maybe he... _Beatrice wonders.

Neither one moves his or her hands, even after time passes.

After all, ice may be deadly. It may injure people, as it did Beatrice, but it is an open canvas, waiting to be filled with chronicles of love, stories of affection.


	7. A Competition of Irony

**Well, I'm getting back on track, I think. I don't really like this drabble, though. :\**

* * *

"You know, I don't think I could ever think that you're just joking now."

"That's good." She laughs. "So now we'll do what we were going to do yesterday!"

Now an entirely different person than she was yesterday, Beatrice drags Battler out into the snow by his tie.

"The snow is deep enough to do this, and it's just the perfect texture, too," she points out as she digs her hands into the snow.

Battler cringes, asking, "Wait... We're not going to have another snowball fight are we?"

In response, a ball of snow smacks him in the face.

"Only because you said that." She shrugs nonchalantly, ignoring Battler's indignant and irritated face. "But that's not what I wanted to do."

Beatrice forms another ball of snow and begins rolling it around, watching it grow bigger and bigger.

_I see... _Battler realizes. _Making snowmen. What a thing for her to want to do..._

He makes a snowball of his own and begins rolling it around.

Meanwhile, Beatrice has already formed the base of her snowman, patting it into place with her hands. She shivers slightly: she is not wearing gloves, like every other day she played in the snow; however, today is colder than the previous days, and she feels her hands become numb as she continuously digs them in the snow.

Noticing that something is wrong, Battler looks up from his snowman and sees Beatrice with her hands in her sleeves.

_I told her to wear gloves, _he remembers. _Honestly..._

Removing his own gloves, he walks over to Beatrice and, taking her hands out of her sleeves, to her astonishment, puts his gloves on her hands.

"What? What are you doing?" She queries, nonplussed.

"Your hands are cold, idiot," he points out. "You could use these gloves more than I could right now."

"B-But..."

"No protesting. Let's see who can make the best snowman the quickest!" Battler challenges suddenly, trying to keep Beatrice from arguing and rejecting his gloves.

Smirking, she accepts with challenge with confident alacrity, knowing that she will once again triumph.

What ensues from Battler's proposition is a flurry of the two racing around, trying to make large snowballs and place them together in some sort of coherent, logical, and clear order. Using his hands as chisels and other shaping tools, Battler forms a sort of skirt-like shape from the base of his snowman, before finding long withes to use for limbs. A few meters away, Beatrice carves intricate features in the body of her snowman, forming the details of clothing and patterns. Her snowman is taller than Battler's, and not as delicate, with bigger, more chiseled features; however, hers contains more detail and is more cleverly shaped.

But the two are both shocked when they step back to admire their handiwork and make any final alterations before announcing that they are finished and able to gloat about their handiwork.

_It can't be! _Beatrice gasps as she realizes what she has done.

_But... There's something missing, _Battler decides after he recovers from his original surprise.

Reaching down into the snow, Battler forms two large snowballs and sticks them to the middle of his snowman.

_There. Now it has cow tits like Beatrice, too._

After all, by some miracle, the two have made perfect renditions of the other with snow.


	8. Nonsensical Babbling and Favors

**It's three in the morning... So I'm sure that this is just weird and rather muddled. *****rubs eyes***** It's my current favorite, though. :D **

* * *

"Pfft. I - can't - believe - this! Ahaha!"

Beatrice breaks into laughter again as she looks at Battler and fails to keep a straight face.

"You're such an idiot! I swear!"

Tears cascading down her face, the witch cannot control her hysterical laughter, even when she looks away.

"I - ho - huhua!"

Battler's attempt at speaking only makes Beatrice laugh harder.

"I heallhe ho huhua!"

"Wh-What was that? I couldn't hear you! Ahaha!"

Battler strains his eyes to look at her and glares.

Of course, all this time, Battler has been trying to say that the current situation is "not funny." But of course, talking when your tongue is stuck to a frozen pole isn't exactly an easily mastered art.

_I can't believe I let her trick me into this! _He growls in his head, the only place where his words are coherent. _She knew what would happen..._

"Huh heh heh ahh he!"

"What? You want me to get you off it?" Beatrice wipes the tears of merriment from her eyes. "Sorry, but I want to laugh at you, if only for a bit longer. I can't believe you fell for it!"

_He looks almost cute and helpless that way, though... _She whispers silently.

_Don't just leave me out here to freeze! _Battler yells mentally. _Get my tongue off this damn pole!_

He tries pulling his tongue off by himself, but it hurts too much to move his body back more than a few centimeters while pulling. Watching from his side, Beatrice shakes her head in amusement.

_So do I help him, or leave him like this? _She ponders. _I mean, it's just so funny..._

"Say, Battler, how about this?" Beatrice offers. "If I help you free yourself, then will you do something for me?"

"Hehheh hohn ha hi hi."

"If I help you, then you have to... I'd make you kiss me, but not with _that_ tongue."

She contemplates the matter, ignoring Battler's impatient movements and embarrassed faces.

"I know. If I help you, then you owe me a favor, which I can use whenever I want!"

Battler scowls, but nods as well as he can.

"High hen."

Wrapping her arms around Battler's waist in a position that is really more of a hug or embrace than simply a sort of physical reinforcement and assistance, Beatrice rests her head on Battler's back and then tugs with all her might. Battler cries out, and falls backwards, landing on his back and on top of Beatrice.

"Owwww!" He gasps, holding his mouth with one hand as he feels blood drip out of his mouth and sees that part of his tongue is still on the pole.

"Well, hey," says Beatrice sitting up, snuggled up cozily behind Battler, "that did it, so you should be happy!"

After recovering, Battler turns to Beatrice.

"Thanks, I guess," he grumbles, mouth still sore and tongue still bleeding, but not near as profusely.

"You're such an idiot for falling for that, you know." She cackles again.

"But I do have one question - Beato, how can you understand what I say even with my tongue stuck to a pole?"

"Uh..."

* * *

**Translations of Battler's pole-speech:**

**"It's not funny!"**

**"It's really not funny!"**

**"Just get me off here!"**

**"Depends on what it is."**

**"Fine, then."**

**No, I've never gotten my tongue stuck on a pole; however, I've seen it happen. Best two minutes of my life. XD  
**


	9. Two Schemes Gone Wrong or Maybe Right?

**Okay, so, my parents decided to be crazy and take me out driving in the country today. ._. I'm not sure if I'll have internet access where I'm going, so the last drabble might be a bit late. **

**That aside, I had fun writing this one, even though it may suck. XD;;;  
**

* * *

"Fine. I _can_ believe this. Even though it's just infuriatingly ludicrous!"

Balling her hands into fists, Beatrice scowls and grumbles in frustration. After spending hours trying to catch her prey in just the right position, only to fail, she is both exhausted and irate. Not only that, but she also feels discouraged, wondering if perhaps Battler is avoiding her on purpose or has already realized her schemes and is ready to thwart them.

_I guess I could always take him up on that favor... But no, I want to use that at a time when it will bring him to his knees! So what should I do...?_

She turns the small object over in her hands, bending its green leaves, tying and untying its cherry red ribbon.

"Maybe it's just impossible?" She murmurs.

_Acting like this... Someone like me acting so lovesick... It's idiotic. It's absurd. And yet, somehow I have to believe that it is real - undeniable._

"What's impossible?" Battler asks as he walks into the room.

Startled and abashed, Beatrice hides the mistletoe behind her back.

"Nothing is impossible for me, the Golden Witch!" She yells before quite realizing what she has said.

"Whatever you say," he shrugs. "What're you doing in here?"

_Maybe now..._

"You've been acting strangely all day," he adds. "Is something up? Don't tell me that you're planning another trick of yours...? Because you're an idiot if you actually think that I'm going to lick a frozen pole again! That still hurts!"

"Please," Beatrice mumbles. "Fun as that would be, no."

"Well, you're still acting differently. And I don't think I can trust you to behave, so maybe I'll just stick around with you to make sure you don't do anything..."

"Don't you realize that you're far less safe _with _me than _away _from me?" She sighs, agitated.

_If he's going to stay..._

"Possibly, but I'd feel safer making sure you're not planning anything." Battler grins cockily and confidently.

_Battler, you're on!_

Lifting her finger and pretending to point at the ceiling, Beatrice lifts the small, embellished plant, still concealed behind her back, into the air, waiting for a chance to lift it higher until she and Battler are together under it.

"Hey, Battler, come here," Beatrice suddenly says. "I have something I want to say to you."

He points at her with his usual confident gesture.

"That's the same tactic as you used last time!"

"But... Trust me, please? I'm not trying to hurt you or anything."

"Not until you repeat it in red: it's not a trick."

"Specify further, or I can't say it."

"Fine then, it's not a trick that will hurt me."

With full certainty that she will succeed, her hope waxing, Beatrice repeats Battler's words.

Battler is at a loss for words, indecisive as to whether or not he should trust the witch. Feeling the pain in his tongue surge, he thinks that perhaps it would be imprudent to follow her orders, but he wants to believe her at the same time.

"Well... Fine... But why can't you just say it from here?"

_I bet I've found the loophole! _Battler thinks.

"B-Because..." Unable to respond, Beatrice grasps for words with her mind.

"If you can't tell me, then I won't come over there -"

"Dammit, I don't care!" Beatrice suddenly yells, her fury reaching its pinnacle. "_I'll _come over _there_!"

Battler backs up, but cannot run away: Beatrice is too fast for him, and, throwing the mistletoe into the air with her magic, she kisses him with a fury hard enough to knock him over.

Gasping for air as she pulls her mouth away and pins him to the ground, she growls, "Why is it that you're stupid enough that have to do this? If only you weren't so damn good at avoiding me, I..."

"What? You what?" Battler looks up into her bright blue eyes.

"You're... Such an idiot..." She laughs, shakes her head, and then kisses him again.

It is a long time later that Battler finds the mistletoe hanging above them and realizes what she wanted.

_Now who is the idiot? _He smiles against the witch's lips - the two had the same scheme in mind from the beginning.


	10. Veracity Witnessed by the Stars

**Last one! My cousin says hi, too, apparently. **

* * *

"I can't believe it's Christmas already!"

Battler sighs with delight as he drinks his tea by the window.

"And yet, it's getting so late..." He murmurs, looking outside at the dark sky, pitch black in a complementary contrast to the seemingly immortal, white snow. Twinkling back at him, the countless sea of stars sparkles, looking like little spheres of of silver dust in the cosmos. Reflecting the light of the gently shining moon, the snow holds orbs of serene sentiments in its multifaceted crystals, dusting, softly outlining, and embellishing the limbs of the partially frozen pine trees. A zephyr kisses and tosses the snow around, making ripples, swirls, waves, and little white clouds flutter like the trains of an angel's gown across the landscape. It is as tranquil and awe-inspiring as the sweetest of slumbers.

"It sure is beautiful, isn't it, Beato?" Battler remarks as he turns to the witch sitting beside him.

She does not respond at first, but whispers after a few seconds, "Let's go out there, Battler."

"At this hour?" Skeptical, Battler wonders if Beatrice is as captivated by the picturesque scenery as he is.

"Yes, of course! C'mon!"

Grabbing Battler's hand, she pulls him along behind her, just as she always does. But he doesn't mind being led along by the witch - it allows him to indulge in a sense of companionship and togetherness.

Once outside, Beatrice walks a few paces before stretching out her arms and falling backward into the deep snow. But she does not make a snow angel like before; rather, she grabs Battler's tie and pulls herself closer to him, snuggling up in the warmth of his chest. The man blushes slightly, but finds that he cannot control his arms as they wrap around Beatrice, keeping her close.

"Look..." She murmurs. "The stars... Enveloped in the Aurora Borealis."

Following her gaze, Battler finds his breath stolen away as he sees every imaginable hue of teal, lavender, sea green, and peach sway and ripple across the rainbow-reflecting welkin.

"Beautiful..." He breathes.

"Say, Battler," Beatrice begins. "About that favor..."

"What about it?"

"I'm calling you on it now~."

"O-Okay..." Battler becomes slightly unnerved.

"First of all, kiss me."

"Wait." Battler frowns. "'First of all'? Are you saying that there is more than one part?"

"I never said there was a limit, did I?"

"But that's not fair!" He protests.

"Get over it and kiss me. You know you want to~."

Sighing, Battler leans over and, closing his eyes, lets his lips find Beatrice's, melting against hers when they meet. Giving a small sigh of pleasure, Beatrice pushes against Battler's mouth, cuddling closer. Pulling back for a second, she traces the curves of Battler's lips with her tongue, before kissing him again fervently. Battler responds by curling his mouth around hers and pulling her body against his, pressing her hands against his heart.

After the kiss is over, Beatrice voices her second request.

"Secondly, tell me you love me."

Eyes softening, Battler knows that he can finally say it.

"Beato, I love you."

"Swear it."

"I swear it. I swear I love you."

Smiling, Beatrice murmurs what she used to think was impossible for her to say.

"I love you too."

And so the two fall asleep in the snow, embraced by the celestial luminosity of winter.

* * *

**This was really a lot of fun to write. Maybe I'll do something like this for spring, and then maybe summer and autumn, if anyone wants me to. **

**I hope you guys had as much fun reading this as I had writing it. ^_^**

**Until next time,**

**~Immortal x Snow**


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